Scared of Forever (Scared #2) (27 page)

“You should have left
the fucking state! The country!” I yell. “In fact, a piece of
shit like you doesn’t even belong on this planet! After the way you
treated Emily, tell me why the fuck I shouldn’t just kill you!”

Jackson flanks my right
shoulder, jaw and fists clenched. Eyes cold and hard. Ready to react
if the motherfucker decides to even take a small step in retaliation.

But he doesn’t. He
laughs. A maniacal, wild, and honestly, quite unnerving laugh. “Go
ahead,” he says, spitting the blood in his mouth on the floor next
to him. “You got the girl. You managed to become the most beloved
son again. I have nothing left. Not even Aria. Not anymore.”

“You reap what you
sow, fucker,” says Jackson.

I slam Blake hard
against the wall with a thud, letting him go. He slips miserably down
to the dirty asphalt. “You’re not even worth my time,” I spit.
“But if you ever,
ever
come near Emily or Sadie again—if I ever even hear that you uttered
either of their names, I will hunt you down and I will fucking rip
your heart from your chest. And I’ll enjoy every motherfucking
minute! Are we clear?” The last three words are threatening,
menacingly low.

He nods feebly. I look
in both disgust and shame at the pathetic being hunched before me.
Fuck!
I really don’t
want to feel pity for this sorry excuse of a man. So I walk away.

Jackson follows. He
looks like he would quite enjoy beating the shit out of Blake some
more, but I’m done.

“You went easy on
him,” Jackson says as I order a double scotch at the bar and buy
him a beer.

“Yeah well, I figured
killing him would just make me a shitty fucking person, just like
him. Karma has already taken care of his ass by the looks of things.
I don’t need to intervene. Unless he screws with Emily or Sadie.
Then I’ll make good on that promise to disembowel him.” I say,
still amped with residual fury.

“Why was he stealing
cash from here?” Jackson asks.

“Probably has none
left,” I say. “Man, let’s not talk about Blake anymore. All I
want to do is forget all about him and get on with my life.”

“So, date five,”
Jackson says with a grin as we sit down. “When does the plan
begin?”

“As soon as
possible,” I say with a laugh. “This chastity thing is driving me
fucking insane!”

Date two was even more
amazing than date one. Tyler had the whole theatre we went to last
year shut down, just for us. The cast put on a special performance of
Romeo and Juliet, a tale of a beautician and a photographer. I
laughed out loud when I saw the busty blonde who was playing Juliet,
AKA me. I wonder, as I stare at the sign when we leave, why Tyler
insisted they include the words
TE
Amo
in the play. I forget to ask as we climb on a
horse-driven carriage, which takes us on a tour of the city.

“This is amazing,”
I say, as we pass by Central Park, illuminated by fairy lights high
in the row of trees that flank it. “You don’t have to do this for
every date. I’m happy just spending time with you. Like we used
to.”

“Is the horse too
much?” Tyler quips, feigning horror. “I swear, as soon as we get
back to the apartment I will fire him instantly!”

“No, I like him,” I
laugh. “But I just want you to understand that it’s the simple
things that matter.”

“It is simple,”
Tyler says, staring at me innocently. “You’re simply worth all of
this.” He gestures at the horse and the cityscape around us. “You
know I don’t flaunt my money, but I’d buy you the moon if you
wanted it. All you have to do is ask.”

“There is absolutely
no point in asking you to stop spoiling me, is there?” I say with a
sigh.

“None whatsoever! So
stop trying,” Tyler says, yanking me playfully into the crook of
his arm. “However, if you decided to repay me in kind, I wouldn’t
argue.”

“So this is just a
ploy to get into my pants?” I laugh, slapping his chest.

“Shit! You really
weren’t supposed to figure that out,” he teases. “But, you’re
forgetting the fact that I’ve already been in your pants. And I
must say, what lovely pants they are.”

I roll my eyes and lean
up, kissing him softly. “You’re infuriating,” I say with a
smile.

“Hold onto that
anger, baby. Soon, you’ll have more than enough opportunities to
unleash it,” he says lowly. My body burns in anticipation.

The sheer amount of
romance in my life has me practically flying. Tyler comes by the
apartment every day to see Sadie. I ask him continuously if he wants
to take her for a day alone, and he looks at me both horrified and
scared shitless each time. His standard response is, “What if I
drop her?” I laughed, but agreed that maybe he needed more time to
acclimate to his new role as her father.

Date three was more
spectacular still. Tyler took me to Brooklyn Bridge Park, where he
had a small marquee canopy erected with a simple picnic underneath.
We ate Italian bread with Swiss cheese and French macaroons, and
drank hot chocolate when the chill set in. I’m amazed at how he has
managed to take the small amount of time we spent together and expand
it into so many breathtaking new experiences. I must admit that New
York City is beautiful from this vantage point at night. The neon
lights from the tall buildings make for a brilliant backdrop to the
enormous Brooklyn Bridge right before us. Date three was amazing, but
when he drops me at home, I storm in the house and flop down on the
couch.

Mac looks up from his
chick flick and gives me a curious stare. “What the hell happened?”
he asks. “And don’t slam the door, you’ll wake Sadie!”

“Nothing!” I say,
frustrated.

“Frowning and
scrunching your brow like that will age you prematurely,” Mac says.
“If nothing happened, why are you so clearly irritated?”

“Nothing happened
Mac, as in,
nothing
.
Besides sweetly tender kisses, hand holding, and huge amounts of
platonic affection, and rounding first base! Tyler has been back for
three and a half weeks. And every week, once a week, he dangles a
carrot in my face!”

“A carrot? I had
pictured him as more of a large, German sausage kind of guy,” Mac
says, feigning thoughtfulness. I throw a pillow at his head. “So
why don’t you make the first move? And wasn’t it you who wanted
to wait in the first place?”

“I’m the one who
insisted we date. I didn’t know that my vagina would hate me for
it.
You
try spending
hours at a time with possibly one of the most romantic people on the
planet, alone, with sexual tension surrounding you like air!”

“Patience, young
one,” Mac says knowingly.

“Oh my god,” I say
in a light bulb moment. “What if he thinks that my vagina is like a
war zone after Sadie?”

Mac lets out a
ridiculously high-pitched squawk. “Honey, you of all people should
know how elastic the skin is!”

“I know, but what if
he doesn’t? You hear those stories about people whose partners
don’t ever have sex with them again after they give birth.”

“I think you’re
overthinking this.” Mac says, rolling his eyes. “Just go with
it.”

“Fine!” I say
storming to my room, stopping only briefly to give Sadie a soft kiss
on her forehead, as she lays sleeping in her bassinet next to Mac.

“Where are you
going?” Mac calls.

“Well, if I can’t
have the real thing, then the mechanical version and mental images of
Tyler will have to do!” I say, shutting my door.

The next day, Sunday,
Mac leaves early to run an errand. Janie doesn’t come to the shop
at all to prep it for Monday. Maia’s phone goes to voicemail. As
does Jackson’s, and then Eliza’s. And today, I desperately needed
a distraction from the indecent things I keep doing to Tyler in my
mind. Eventually, Sadie and I put on some proper clothes and take a
walk through the city streets. Steering her stroller through the
crowded New York City streets is usually a task I dread. Today I
welcome the distraction, though. I pass by huge, lavish department
stores, smaller boutique and designer stores, and countless little
knick-knack stores. Walking past a boutique jeweler, a familiar frame
catches my eye.

My heart stops when I
realize that it’s Tyler. But he’s not alone. Next to him is a
long legged brunette with chic designer reading glasses and long,
curly, almost black hair. Her and Tyler stare intently at something
the jeweler is showing them. The woman carries an expensive-looking
business bag come satchel. Suddenly I’m back in the tattoo shop,
staring at Blake and Aria. Tears fill my eyes. I steer Sadie’s
stroller back towards the beauty salon. For each step I take further
away from him, a tear falls from my eyes.

Mac is back at the
apartment when I arrive back, and hurriedly shoves the items he’s
examining into a small shopping bag. He takes one look at me and
comes rushing over.

“What happened?”

“We took a walk, and
I saw Tyler. He told me he was working on stuff for his new
photography business today. Then I saw him at a jeweler with some
girl,” I sob.

Sadie cries loudly in
her stroller, obviously as distraught by today’s events as I am. I
pick her up and rock her gently. “I’m sure it wasn’t what
you’re thinking,” Mac says.

“Then what was it?”
I reply. “I’ve never seen that girl before. Who takes a girl into
a jewelry store for no reason after lying to his girlfriend?”

“First of all,” Mac
says. “He said he was working on his business
today
.
He never said
all
day. Second of all, this is Tyler, not Blake. If you’re gonna start
comparing the two already, you may as well spare him the heartache.
And yourself.”

“Whose side are you
on, Mac?” I say with offense.

“Yours, but I will
also bet my balls on the fact that Tyler is not screwing around on
you. And in the spirit of honesty, why don’t you ask him? On your
date next week. What is this, date four?”

“And sound like a
pathetic, jealous idiot? This would explain why we haven’t had sex
yet.”

Mac rolls his eyes and
walks towards the kitchen.

“Where are you going?
I have a crisis here!” I yell after him.

“Call me when you
stop acting a fool,” Mac yells back.

Tyler comes to see
Sadie every day the next week, as usual. On Friday, he actually feels
comfortable enough to take her to Central Park alone. It’s a proud
moment for me. And he looks so frightened. It’s endearing. I still
haven’t worked up the courage to ask him about the girl and the
jeweler yet.

Mac’s
right
. If I trust my gut, it tells me that Tyler is
unequivocally faithful to me. In other news, all my friends seem to
have gotten extremely busy all of a sudden. Maia calls to say she
can’t make it for our lunch date. Mac seems to be amassing a large
amount of make-up and costume jewelry, ducking out of the salon every
five minutes on ‘errands.’ Even Eliza hasn’t called me all
week.

Saturday evening rolls
around, and for tonight, Tyler has asked me to wear something long
and elegant. Mac and I go shopping, and I buy a black satin dress
that reaches my ankles. The back falls softly into a mermaid’s
tail, and the front is studded with iridescent Swarovski crystals.

“It’s too much,”
I say to Mac, twirling in the dress in the change room, feeling
self-conscious.

“It’s beautiful,”
he says, removing my purse from my bag and paying for it at the
counter before I can change my mind.

“Do you know the
reason for this fancy dress?” I ask, as we walk back to the salon.
“Everyone seems to know something about something recently, except
me. Or at least it feels that way.”

“I know nothing,”
Mac replies, deliberately avoiding my pointed stare.